What is Ki? Part Two

Earlier, I wrote a post that was my first foray into defining ki, that seemingly-elusive quality that, when added to our movements, makes our technique strong and powerful, gentle and fluid. In my first post, I attempted to start defining ki by first saying what it was not. Now, I want to spend a little time trying to define what ki actually is. To be more specific: what are at least some of the qualities of ki power? How can we start to identify whether or not ki is present, even if we don’t know exactly what it is? Can we, in short, narrow the field of possibilities just a little bit?

Again, there is nothing definitive here. These are just my own musings.

First, let’s start with the fact that ki exists. This seems somewhat paradoxical. Why have a conversation on ki if we don’t think it exists? And yet I think this is a very important fact. I have had several conversations with people about ki only to realize, midway through, that one of us doesn’t really believe that ki actually exists. One of us is treating ki as a sort of agreed-upon hallucination, or a common myth.

This isn’t true. Ki exists.

You can call it a biological response that occurs when the human body commits to an action without any counter action; you can call it the mystical force of the universe entering you. You can call it skill, you can call it talent. You can, in fact, call it anything you want, but you have to acknowledge that it exists. Regardless as to how we interpret ki, we must acknolwedge that ki is at least something. To be blunt: if you do not believe that ki exists, that’s fine. Many train with this idea. but you can ignore the rest of this post; this conversation will have no meaning for you.

Next, ki is quantifiable. You can tell it is present even if you are unsure of what “it” actually is. Technique with ki power is strong and unstoppable. Technique without it is unreliable. People emenating ki are often said to have some sort of charisma. They fill the room when they enter it. Your attention is drawn to them, they seem amazingly present. Most people treat ki as some sort of magic (which, as I have said previously, it is not); something they cannot see or feel. This is not true. We can tell that ki is present. We may not be able to truly measure it: “Bob’s technique has 30 units of ki, but did see Jill? Her technique had nearly 45!” Such a sentence makes no sense. But we can say: “Bob’s technique lacked ki; Jill’s did not.” We can say this by observing their movements, by practicing with them, sometimes even by talking with them.

If we can agree with the previous two points–that ki is real and quantifiable–then maybe we can tackle how to describe it.

Spring Seminar with Sensei Rick Berry

This past weekend, I had the honor and privilege to learn from Sensei Rick Berry at the PNBA’s Spring Seminar. Currently, my feet are sore, I’ve a wrenched wrist, and a potentially hyper-extended elbow. My muscles are tired, my bones are fatigued, my eyes would very much like to close.

I feel GREAT.

Most of the time, when I or one of my training partners is at a seminar, we inevitably make a statement similar to: “What a great experience! I learned so much.” While that is certainly true in this case, one element made this past weekend more amazing than most. Most of the time, when I am at a seminar, I am the receiver. I learn, and take what I have learned and try to give it to my students. There are many occasions where this is highly appropriate (I am thinking of camps with Sensei Maruyama, for example). But this past weekend, I felt that I went on a journey with Sensei Berry. He was not simply there to teach. He was there to share, to discuss, to encourage. We, as the students, were partners in a discussion of martial technique and philosophy.

There is simply too much to say in one post about what I learned from this weekend. So I won’t try. But I’ll at least start with the energy. There was so much of it. So much positive excitment, dedication, and enthusiasm. It was built on a combination of seeing both Sensei Bannister and Sensei Berry, two of the finest Aikido practitioners I have ever met; it was built on seeing old friends; but mostly it was built on a community of people dedicated to improving themselves, their community, perhaps even the world through the practice of Kokikai Aikido.

Think seeing your favorite football team win the Super Bowl. Think a family reunion. Think getting together with a group of old friends. Think the energy you get when you are performing or listening to your favorite music. Think of a runners high, think of a good meal. Get all this wrapped up, and you have the beginnings of what I felt during this weekend.

Right now the entire experience is a hazy blur; over the next few weeks, things will sharpen into focus. I want to share and describe what comes into focus here, because I do not want to forget it. Right now, I am stunned, amazed, happy, sore, enthusiastic, recharged, and tired. I’m off to bed.